


"How Does That Make You Feel?"

by caswell



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, F/F, Mild Self Harm TW, Redemption, Therapy, also chloe's therapist, but not apologism, the c in chloe stands for cluster b personality disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 17:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: Chloe Valentine learns to apologize, and to change, and to heal.





	"How Does That Make You Feel?"

**Author's Note:**

> credit to youseelup on tumblr for the idea about the bras, you creeped through four months of personal tweets to drag up irrelevant shit and make me out to be a bad person but it was good while it lasted ig  
> also the therapist is named after my psychiatrist so shoutout to shalene kennedy too, youre the real mvp thanks for the antidepressants xoxo

For the past four years, Chloe has denied needing therapy.

For the past three years and 360 days, Chloe has been seeing Dr. What's-Her-Face, Something-Or-Another Kennedy, who is average in every sense of the word. She has average-length hair, she's of average height, she's just shy of middle-aged, and she's got to be the blandest person on earth, from what Chloe knows of her, which is, well, not much compared to how much she knows about Chloe.

Chloe doesn't appreciate that at fucking all, thank you very much.

She was there to hear all about Chloe's little stunt in the seventh grade that landed her in there in the first place, how she broke half the bottles of booze in the house when her parents had inadvertently left the liquor cabinet unlocked. She would've broken the other half, too, had her mother not practically flown downstairs and slapped her in the face before hauling her off to her room. Why had she done it? Probably for attention. She can't really remember anymore, though.

She was there for Chloe's first heartbreak in the eighth grade. Could it really be called a heartbreak if she was that young? Well, regardless, it was her first breakup. He really wasn't that big of a deal, just some kid with a unibrow whose name was... what, Eric? Yeah, it was Eric. But he'd given her attention, and that's what she wanted. That's what she needed. So when she turned on her phone in the morning to see that he'd texted her a short breakup message overnight, she was... distressed, to say the least. So distressed that, yes, she sharpened a pencil and swiped it at her dainty little wrists a few times until the skin broke, blood beading up in the corners. It wasn't much, but it was something, and, of course, she had to tell her therapist, those were the rules. It never left a scar, but there's still the fact that yes, the most popular girl in school was, for one day, a cutter.

She was there for Chloe's instant infatuation with Jake Dillinger when freshman year started and half the students from her middle school merged with half the ones from his at Middle Borough High. She had latched onto him immediately- he was, after all, the most popular freshman; that became evident within mere weeks of their year's arrival. When asked why she was so into him, she could only answer with, 'He's magnetic.'

She was there when Chloe's short term goal was achieved: get with Jake Dillinger. It had taken months- it was a bit into their sophomore year at this point- but she'd successfully managed to seduce him. It felt good, sort of. Powerful, at the very least. She was the most popular girl at her middle school, and she was shaping up to be the most popular at Middle Borough, too. Of course she should be dating Jake Dillinger. They were a power couple. They were meant to be. Everyone agreed.

And here she is for Chloe now, as she sits there on the long couch, staring out the window into the mild, sunny December day that she should be enjoying- maybe going on a nice walk or hanging out with her friends at one of the strip malls in the area.

"So, what's new with you?" Dr. Kennedy asks.

This is where Chloe's story starts.

* * *

i.

The strangest thing about the whole situation is that Jeremy doesn't struggle. In fact, he's stiff as a board, as if he's a mannequin. Perfectly malleable. There's that odd look in his eyes, though, a look of panic and confusion. Well, of course there is- the hottest girl in school is coming onto him. The kid has probably never come within ten feet of a pair of breasts before. Why wouldn't he be nervous?

Chloe feels herself wobble as she pushes Jeremy over, looking him dead in the eyes despite the fact that her vision is blurring slightly. "Stop being coy," she demands, sure of herself now. It's nothing. He's just being slick. He's just playing around, is all. Of course he likes it. "Let it happen, Jeremy."

Jeremy's enjoyment isn't the priority here, though. Oh, sure, he's cute- when he's not talking, at least- but really, he's not Chloe's type. Barely any muscle mass on the kid, and he's still... sort of awkward. Disjointed. As if his newfound cool exterior is a ruse.

Not that she's thinking about that in the moment. Chloe's not really thinking much of anything right now except her end goal. And she's going to achieve that goal no matter what.

The goal, of course, being Jake Dillinger. His attention, specifically. Chloe knows how to use her body. She's perfectly aware of how attractive she is. She's perfectly aware of what sex makes people do, especially in situations that are saturated with drugs and booze. And she's sure as shit perfectly aware of how pissed Jake will be if he finds her railing Jeremy on his parents' bed. Not that anyone is using it- they abandoned their kid months ago. So it goes.

Luckily, Jeremy doesn't protest as Chloe tugs his shirt off of him, that weird... circuit pattern thing, what the hell is he supposed to be, a robot? Well, she pulls off whatever that dumb shit is and tosses it to the side, where it lands rumpled at the foot of the bed. Jake's parents' bed, that's always important, Jake's Parents' Bed™, that's the key. Jeremy's body is... well, it's better than it once was, that's true. He's not so horrendously skinny anymore. He's not built in any sense of the word, but his muscles are a little more defined now- he must be working out. Not that Chloe gives a shit. Like she said... he's not her type. He's not the reason she's here.

She straddles him, this boy who lays there unresponsive, as if he's comatose, still that bit of anxiety in his eyes because, well, the little bastard is finally gonna lose his virginity. She leans own to kiss him, and, surprise surprise, something in him must've kicked in, because after a couple seconds, he kisses back, and it feels almost expert. It's probably just because she's drunk.

She's not too drunk, though, to notice a small voice from outside. The one variable she didn't account for. "Jeremy? Are you in there?" Brooke asks from outside the room, and somehow, that makes Chloe's heart sink. No. Who cares? Chloe sure as hell doesn't. She kisses Jeremy again, even as her best friend calls for him- "Jeremy?" It's almost pathetic.

She's not there for long though. She must have given up. The two of them breathe a simultaneous sigh of relief, the first thing they've done jointly this whole night. But Jeremy, of course, has to open his stupid mouth. "She said something about Jenna Rolan," he says, words rushed. "If Jenna saw us..."

Chloe rolls her eyes in an exaggerated gesture of annoyance. "Jenna Rolan should mind her own business."

"Brooke's going to find out!" Jeremy protests. "Don't you care?"

She does care, a little, but that's easy to push away in the haze of the alcohol. There are more important things to think of now. Instead, Chloe just sneers and says, "You're less cute when you're talking."

At that, Jeremy's eyes go blank, and he quits speaking, although he does frown once in a while. What the hell is his problem? Why's he acting so weird? He can't be drunk just from the booze she's given him. Maybe he had some earlier and she just didn't see it. Well, whatever.

Chloe doesn't have long to think on it, though, because there soon comes a pounding on the door. "Jeremy Heere!" comes Jake's voice through the door, and Chloe grins.

"Ooh, the fun begins."

 

ii.

The words are hard to get out. They usually are. If this old lady wants Chloe to open up to her completely or without a fight, she's in for a surprise. After a few minutes of worrying her lip and trying to find the right way to phrase it, Chloe spits out her confession like she's ripping off a Band-Aid. "I think I sexually assaulted someone," she says flatly, bluntly.

Dr. Kennedy raises her eyebrows, looking... oddly nonplussed. Even that has Chloe offended. Does she really take her for the sort of person who would do something like that? Is it written on her face? Does she act like a rapist? "What makes you say that?" the doctor asks, cutting through Chloe's thoughts.

"Because I literally sexually assaulted him," Chloe answers. "A friend of mine. Jeremy. I took his shirt off and I kissed him when he said he wanted to get back to the party." She's pretty sure that's sexual assault. It sure sounds like it. Now that she's sober, rethinking through her actions... yep, she sure did That.

"That... well, that is sexual assault," Dr. Kennedy confirms. She frowns at Chloe, almost glares, which Chloe's pretty sure is against the rules, but whatever. Plenty of people hate her. Who cares? "Why on Earth would you do something like that?"

"Well... to make Jake jealous, I guess." It wasn't a guess. That was her plan all along, and it worked. They sure did have some drunk makeup sex on Jake's bed (not his parents' bed, why's he so protective of his parents' bed?) so... all's well that ends well, right? Right?

"How do you feel having done it?" her therapist asks.

That breaks Chloe's surety. She licks her lips, at a momentary loss for words. How does she feel? All's well that ends well, yes, but still, Jeremy... seems to flinch away from her sometimes. They're friends, they have to be after what all happened to them- something that her therapist still isn't aware of, because why would she believe her? Telling her would get Chloe a one-way ticket to the mental hospital, that's for goddamn sure- but there's that little lack of trust there. Chloe's not a complete demon; she doesn't feel good about that. In fact, when he shrinks away from her touch some days, it makes her feel kinda shitty.

"...Bad?" Chloe says simply, and it sounds like a question somehow. "I mean, technically, he didn't deserve it."

Dr. Kennedy nods in agreement. "So then, what're you going to do about it?"

What could she do? It's not like she can take it back. Maybe Jeremy isn't completely traumatized- he'd probably stay away from her if that was the case, and at the end of the day, they are friends, they've had some good times- but it still probably felt really shitty. After all, Chloe would flip her shit if somebody touched her like that. "I don't know. I could apologize, I guess," she answers.

"Do you know how to apologize, Chloe?" her therapist asks, in a way that... isn't really passive aggressive. It throws Chloe for a loop. She seems... genuine. It's a real question.

And she realizes that she doesn't know the answer.

Usually, Chloe only apologizes to get out of trouble. She apologized when her mother found out she'd snuck a bottle of Grey Goose over to Jake's Halloween party. She apologized when her tenth grade English teacher accused her- rightfully- of cheating on the quiz for chapter four of Lord of the Flies. She apologized when she'd been overheard calling Michael Mell a retard. (Cut her some slack, okay? Antisocial, always wears headphones, wears the same damn hoodie every day- the kid's an easy target. Probably autistic.)

But she... hadn't really apologized when she felt guilty about something. Usually she just shoved it away and let it fester until she either forgot or gave up on it. This is probably the worst thing she's ever done, though. Sure, breaking half the liquor bottles in the house was bad, probably cost a shit ton of money, but, well, the Valentines are rich, and you can't really bounce back from being sexually violated and be good as new. You can't be pure and untouched again. You just can't.

"I don't know," Chloe finally admits. Defensively, she adds, "If you're so smart, maybe you could teach me."

Dr. Kennedy takes the sharpness of Chloe's words in stride. "Lucky for you, Chloe, I have just the thing."

 

iii.

Jenna Rolan isn't the only one who knows everything. Chloe has made a point of locating and mentally mapping all her friends' lockers. Christine's and Jake's are close together, and Rich's and Jeremy's as well. Hers, unfortunately, is almost all the way across the school, though thankfully, all the upperclassmen have lockers on the same floor.  
The point of all this is, Chloe knows exactly where Jeremy is going to be just after school gets out. After grabbing her coat hastily from her locker and shrugging it on, she heads over towards the social studies classrooms, which is where Jeremy's locker is located, directly between Mrs. Freeman’s and Mr. Stevens’ rooms. Sure enough, Jeremy's there, shoving things in his bag- a math book, it looks like, and a thin novella that was probably an assigned reading for his AP English class. There's a small hitch in her plan, though- somehow, she'd forgotten to account for Michael, who, after an awkward few weeks, had returned to Jeremy's side. In fact, she saw Jeremy with Michael more often than she saw him with Christine. She can't really judge, though. Friends are forever.

Well, she'll find a way to get rid of him later. In the meantime, though, Chloe greets Jeremy with a, “Hey, Jerry.”

Jeremy no longer bothers to correct her- it's become a pet name, used mostly by herself and Brooke. Instead, he turns to her and says, “Oh. Hey, Chloe.” There's a smile on his face, but it's fallen from the grin he had when he was chatting with Michael. “What's up?”

“I need to talk to you,” Chloe answers, and Jeremy freezes up. It's slight, it's gone in a second, but it's there. This might be hard.

Tentatively, Jeremy says, “Uh, alright, shoot.”

Gesturing with her head towards Michael, Chloe adds, “...Alone.”

That tense, deer in the headlights look is back, and it lingers. Jeremy is silent for a long moment, but finally he clears his throat and says, “Alright. Yeah. Sure.”

Michael gives Chloe A Look™ that tells her that if she tries anything, she's gonna get her ass kicked to kingdom come, and she doesn't care for that shit at all. What could he do to her, anyway? She's strong. She's tough. She... would get curbstomped. Instead, she fixes him with a steely gaze until he submits, looking away.

"Sorry, we won't be long," she says to Michael with a fake smile, and grabs Jeremy's hand. To him, Chloe says, "C'mon, let's go."

She pulls him aside into a classroom she knew would be empty- there's not even a nameplate outside; she's got no idea what it's for- and closes the door behind them. The tension between them is palpable, and Jeremy looks like he wants to bolt from the room- again, she can't shake the comparison to a deer from her head. He's like a fawn, all trembling legs and adorable innocence.

"...So... what's up, Chlo?" Jeremy asks, standing there with his hands awkwardly in his pockets. He hadn't sat down at a desk like Chloe had. He's looking at anything but her- the clock, the door, the whiteboard, the door again.

"I have something to say to you," Chloe begins. Immediately, she feels stupid. Of _course_ she has something to say; why else would she have made him come here?

Jeremy seems to be having the same thought. “Uh… yeah, I noticed,” he says. He seems a little less nervous now, at least. Her awkwardness- certainly out of character for her- seems to have a disarming effect. Embarrassing, but good.

Chloe picks up her purse from where she'd set it beside her on the ground, opens it, and rummages around for a few seconds, deft fingers flitting over tampons and earbuds before closing around her phone.

“Were you… gonna tell me?” Jeremy asks, leaning in a little with a quizzical look.

Chloe puts a pointer finger up and shushes him. “Wait a sec.” She navigates to the Notes app on her phone and selects the file simply titled ‘DEARMAN’.

_Describe- use simple wording to explain the problem_

Chloe raises her eyes to meet Jeremy's and says, “...I sexually assaulted you at Jake's Halloween party.”

Jeremy flinches at the reminder. “...Yeah, uh, you did,” he says, voice more subdued. Ashamed, probably.

_Express- talk about feelings here but DON'T make it weird_

“That probably made you feel really bad,” Chloe continues, although bad probably isn't the best word to describe it. Dirty, maybe. Humiliated. Violated. Scarred.

Whatever the word, Jeremy nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna be real with you, Chloe, it fucking sucked.” There's something akin to anger in Jeremy's voice, but he's keeping it constrained; it comes out as chilly and bitter.

_Assert- just say the damn thing_

Chloe takes a deep breath and steels herself for… something. “I… really wanted to apologize,” she says, voice soft. “I'm sorry, Jeremy. For everything.” She feels vulnerable, like a kicked puppy or a newborn baby. But she's not the one who's in the right here, so she sucks it up.

Jeremy doesn't say anything for a long, long time. Chloe can see the gears turning in his head, cycling through anger, acceptance, fright, shame, and a variety of other emotions she can't quite decipher.

Chloe's mind drifts back to the party, the drunken debacle that caused this nauseating tension between the two of them. How could she be so stupid? That was a terrible thing to do! Sexual assault is unforgivable! She should be in jail, or a hospital, or, or, anywhere but here in an empty classroom with someone she hurt so bad.

Chloe glances down at her phone again. _Stay mindful- don't daydream or anything stupid like that._ Right. She raises her eyes again to look into Jeremy's, trying to hold eye contact, but he keeps glancing away. "...Jeremy?" she asks, leaning forward a little in her seat.

Jeremy finally meets her eyes and gives a weak smile, but that fades quickly. "I mean, you've gotten better," he says, seemingly at a loss for words. "I- I don't know, though, I mean- I wanted to just forget about it."

Chloe's face falls. Right. God, how could she even bring it up? He probably never wanted to think about it again, and here she goes reminding him of it. "I'm sorry," she repeats, genuinely meaning it. Her confidence is falling. _Appear confident- you're chloe fucking valentine, this should be easy._ Well, it isn't, so thanks for that, Past Chloe.

"I- I dunno," Jeremy says, stammering again. "I guess I... accept your apology?" He squirms a little, tapping his fingers against one crossed arm. "But this whole thing- this isn't gonna go away after one apology, okay? You need to show it."

Even though Chloe had barely spoken a word with Jeremy before the SQUIP, she's sure that he's become more steadfast in his beliefs since. Probably some lingering tips on how not to be a pussy. They've talked about the effects of it before, him and Rich, so she knows a little bit of what went on- she had hers for less than an hour; she barely knew anything about it otherwise. In a way, Chloe is proud of him, but it feels rotten to not have her apology really settle in, to not have things be normal between the two of them.

"That's fair," she says quietly. "Is there... anything I could do to make things better? Easier?"

Jeremy thinks on that for a long, long minute. "I... I guess, uh... just... keep being nicer?" After a moment, he adds, "To everyone. Not just me. You've gotten better, I get it, but Chloe, you're still kind of a bitch." Immediately, he flinches away, as if some instinct told him that Chloe was going to... what, get up and slap him?

She doesn't, though, although maybe at a different time she would have. "I guess," she says, although it isn't really a guess. It's the truth. "I'll do my best. Okay? I will. And I won't touch you like that ever again. That's a promise."

"I'm holding you to that," Jeremy says. And, without another word, he walks out the door, shooting back a glance full of emotions that Chloe can't quite parse before disappearing from her sight.

* * *

 

i.

Yes, Chloe can be a bit of a bitch. She admires that about herself sometimes. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She's always there to say what nobody else has the balls to say. And, yes, this bitchiness can sometimes be directed to her friends, no matter how close they are.

Brooke had been acting a little sad that day. Maybe she was on her period. Maybe it was because she just broke up with her boyfriend- that Brock dude, fuck him, fuck his family, et cetera et cetera. Maybe she just woke up on the wrong side of bed. Whatever the reason, she's been acting so sensitive, and it's a little annoying. Chloe loves Brooke, she's like a sister (or... something) to her, but look. She's not great to be around if you're a sensitive person. She'll own up to that.

So the events of that evening really shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone involved.

Since it's pretty much the only place of interest near where they live, Chloe and Brooke hang out at the Menlo Park Mall at least once a week. It's the ideal place to be, especially when you consider that Chloe is, well, rich. Let's not mince words. It's a Saturday evening, around 6 o'clock, and the two of them are shopping around in Urban Outfitters, one of their regular haunts. Brooke had been complaining about needing more sweaters, and Chloe wanted to get some shorter skirts. Not enough of her legs are showing, which is a damn pity, because she loves her legs.

Brooke's picked out her sweaters- she'd seen an oversized yellow cardigan and practically lunged at it, along with a couple others- and was now helping Chloe pick out skirts, always one to try to be helpful. As Chloe inspects a grey and black, plaid-patterned pelmet skirt, Brooke grabs a black miniskirt from a rack and holds it up for Chloe to see. "How about this one?" she asks, a small smile on her face.

The skirt's cute, but Chloe narrows her eyes and snatches the hanger from Brooke's hand, and Brooke squeaks in surprise. "What the Hell is this?" Chloe demands after she looks at the tag. "I'm not Jenna fucking Rolan, Brooke. Why a size ten? You know damn well I'm a size four."

Brooke shrinks away, blinking away tears. "Chloe, calm down, it was the first one on the rack, I can grab a size four if you want-"

Chloe shoves the skirt back into Brooke's arms and sighs, breath ragged with annoyance. She's not really sure why she snapped, but it was the easiest way to get her feelings across. After all, Brooke knows that she's a size four, just the way that Chloe knows Brooke is a size six. "Gimme a size four," she says simply, and Brooke does, hesitantly swapping out the two skirts. When Brooke turns back to Chloe, though, there's tears in her eyes, threatening to brim over. Chloe's heart sinks.

"You don't have to be a jerk all the time, you know," Brooke says softly as she hands the skirt to Chloe.

That's true. That's... definitely true. Okay, so maybe she's hard on Brooke. But that's just how she is. She can't be asked to change. She's the queen bee of Middle Borough, she can't let other people get uppity. Chloe opens her mouth, but no words come out. She stands there with her glossed lips parted for a second, then closes them and narrows her eyes at Brooke. "Right. Well."

"...Well." Brooke worries her lip uncomfortably and wipes away a tear.

"Let's just drop it," Chloe suggest coolly, and turns back to the racks of clothes.

 

ii.

There hasn't been anything major in Chloe's life lately. It's a couple days past Valentine's Day, which she spent with Jake, but other than that, there are no life updates. Her session with Dr. Kennedy that week will be, as it is sometimes, an hour spent chatting about minutia with little emotional meaning to her. Yes, she's doing fine with her friends. Yes, everything is alright with Jake. No, she hasn't been fighting with her parents, at least no more than usual. Yes, she's doing fine in school.

Chloe sighs and looks up at the flimsy tiles of the ceiling, white speckled with dots of black, just like the ones at Middle Borough. "...And like, she always does this sad puppy thing, and it's gotten her laid again, and it's so annoying, like, will you use anything but backhanded methods to get some dick?" She didn't realize she'd gotten there, but somehow, the conversation had traveled to Brooke. It does that more often than she'd like to admit. It's natural, though; they're best friends, after all.

Dr. Kennedy hums in acknowledgement and jots something down on her notepad, which Chloe has been dying to see since the moment she walked into her first session. "I thought Brooke was your best friend," Dr. Kennedy says.

Chloe gives her a confused look. "Uh, yeah, of course she is. She's my ride or die," she replies.

"Then why call her a..." Dr. Kennedy clears her throat. "A 'fake hoe'?"

"Because she is," Chloe says, the confused look staying. "What's with the weird questions."

Dr. Kennedy thinks on that a moment. "You don't seem to treat your best friend very well, Chloe, even if she does play the wounded puppy like you say. Have you ever talked to her about this?" she asks. "It seems like there's a lack of trust."

Chloe is silent for a moment before she shrugs and says, "I dunno. I mean, she lets me. It's just kinda the way you are, y'know?"

"Do you think she likes it?" Dr. Kennedy asks, prying deeper.

Chloe shrugs again. "I guess not. One time I made her cry." Saying that makes her feel awful, somehow, but she brushes it away. It's just how they are. That's their friendship, and that's alright.

"Look, Chloe, I'm going to be honest with you," Dr. Kennedy says. "You don't have a good relationship with your friends."

"I'm in charge," Chloe replies defensively, "so, respectfully, Doctor, I'd say they're pretty damn good."

"Friendships aren't about being in charge," Dr. Kennedy says. "Did apologizing to Jeremy feel good?"

It... sort of did. It was hard, and it hurt when he didn't fully accept it, but she realizes that yeah, she had it coming. It's better to say it than to just let it rot and fester and infect the friendship. After all, she really does like Jeremy, even if she's not into him sexually. "Yeah," Chloe answers finally. "Yeah, I guess it did feel kinda good."

"In that case," Dr. Kennedy says, "I think you should apologize to Brooke using the same skills you did with Jeremy. It would do you both a lot of good in the long run."

Chloe deliberates for a little while about that. On the one hand, it would be scary; she still hates taking responsibility for her actions, which, yes, is a character flaw, but it's worked out fine so far, so whatever. On the other hand, it would objectively be better do apologize, and it would make their friendship stronger, which she'd never complain about. Sisters forever, right?

"Maybe I should," Chloe answers finally.

"Yes, Chloe," Dr. Kennedy says, "Maybe you should."

 

iii.

Things are pretty casual for Chloe on Saturday nights- at least, when there aren't any big parties going on. Being the most popular guy in school's girlfriend has its advantages, and hugeass parties are one of them. Since there's not one tonight, however, she's just hanging out in Brooke's room, talking idly and painting her toenails as Brooke plays app games on her rose gold iPhone. She's been playing Blossom Blast a lot lately, which is somehow very fitting.

Brooke looks up from her game, though, after a long period of silence. "Chlo?" she asks. "You've been acting all weird today. Quiet and stuff. Are you alright?"

Truth is, Chloe's not really alright. She's... oddly nervous. It's not a feeling she has very often- she's not bullied, she's a confident girl, people respect her- but it's there, and it buzzes in her veins. There's that anxiety again, the anxiety from doing what's right instead of doing what solely benefits her. She hates it, and she hates that she hates it. But still, she'll lie, since that's one of her greatest talents. "No, I'm fine," she says hastily.

Brooke nods, though she clearly doesn't believe her. "Well... okay," she says, and returns to her phone. A few minutes later, though, she speaks up again. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," Chloe says, and it comes out harsher than she intended. In a softer, more controlled voice, she adds, "I just... there was something I wanted to talk about."

Brooke stiffens a bit at that, but it's gone in a moment. "Uh... okay, hit me," she says. She turns the screen of her phone off and sets it aside, eyes and ears trained on Chloe, as they so often are.

Chloe remembers her tactics a little more, so she doesn't have to use her phone this time, thankfully. "I, uh, I've been thinking." Brooke leans a little, urging her to go on, and Chloe continues, "I'm sort of a bitch to you. Like... a huge bitch."

"...Yeah," Brooke says simply, nodding her head.

"Yeah. And I should probably apologize," Chloe says. Tensing again with anxiety, she brushes the second coat of navy blue polish onto the nail of her left big toe.

"Yeah," Brooke says again.

"Yeah." There's an awkward silence again, and Chloe feels closer to Brooke than ever before and miles and miles away from her at the same time. To bridge the gap, she says, "I'm really sorry. It's not great that I do that- I mean, like, snap at you and stuff- given that you're, y'know. My best friend."

Brooke nods. "It isn't great. It actually kinda sucks a lot. And, like, you're my best friend and I love you, Chloe, but..." She sighs. "Yeah, you kinda treat me like shit sometimes."

"I'm sorry," Chloe repeats. "I'm really sorry, Brooke. I just- I wanna stay friends, cuz I like being your best friend. We have to come to an understanding about this."

Brooke blinks in surprised. "Still be friends? Of course we'll still be friends, Chlo. Nothing could stop that," she says, and leans over to place a gentle hand on Chloe's shoulder. "It's okay."

Chloe freezes in place as she feels Brooke's soft touch. The anxiety in her veins turns white-hot, like something is surging through her, something that she doesn't know how to put a name to. Her chest hurts, lungs deflated like someone's clamped them with a vice. Christ, she must really hate apologizing. She swallows hard. Stay mindful. Stay mindful.

"Uh. Chloe? You good?" Brooke asks, raising an eyebrow in concern.

Stay mindful.

Chloe worries her lower lip, shiny with red lipstick. "I'm okay. I'm okay," she says. "Look, really, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, like, I could buy you dinner or take you shopping or something-"

Brooke shakes her head. "That won't be necessary, Chlo. You're my best friend! All I ever wanted was an apology." She smiles warmly at Chloe, and Chloe's heart melts just the slightest bit. "Just... I'd appreciate it if you'd, like, try to make a change instead of just apologizing and keeping on with, y'know."

Chloe nods vigorously. "I will. I'll try. I'll... do my best."

Brooke's smile widens as she says, "Thank you, Chloe. I really appreciate it." Then, with a tiny frown, she thinks for a moment. "I do kinda want some McD's though. Can I change my mind about you buying me food?"

A fond smile crosses Chloe's face as she looks at Brooke. She puts her hand on her shoulder and says, "Yeah, girl, let's go to McDonald's. My treat."

* * *

 

i.

He still won't have sex with her on his parent's bed.

Chloe stares up over Jake's shoulder at the poster of the night sky that he's affixed to the wall above his bed. It shows the night sky in January, because he's a Capricorn, as he'd informed her on their first date. That supposedly means he's compatible with her, a Scorpio. Supposedly.

Jake, though, appears to think she's looking into his eyes. He grins that stupid grin that he only does when he's having sex. Chloe's never seen it any other time. "You like that, baby girl?" he asks, voice low and raspy.

Chloe nods and gives a weak smile. She likes it as much as she always does. Jake's good in the sack, maybe. Technically, he's the only person she's ever had sex with, so she doesn't have anyone to compare him to, but still. He's good. She doesn't get why sex is so celebrated, though. Like, sure, it's fun, sorta, it's a good way to kill time, but it's not amazing or life-changing or anything. Thank God she didn't make the decision to wait until marriage.

Jake leans down and kisses her, and Chloe kisses back, noticing with mild distaste that his lips are all chapped. He thrusts into her, making the bed creak, but she barely feels it; if it's because he lacks in sexual skills or because Chloe's somewhere else, she doesn't know, but still, she just feels sort of numb. Jake doesn't seem to notice. He keeps kissing her, moving down to her neck, where he starts to bite. God, Chloe hates hickeys. They're ugly and she has to wear turtlenecks to keep them from showing, and she hates the feel of them on her neck. It makes her feel like she's choking.

Still, she grins and bears it, because this is sex, and sex is Good, sex is A Thing That Chloe Valentine Enjoys, since she is a Popular Girl and she Likes Sex With Boys. She pretends to be passionate, remembering to moan or whimper at the appropriate times. She's gotten pretty good at faking it. When Jake comes in her- well, in the condom, she always makes sure he wears one even though she's on birth control- she "comes" as well, moaning without feeling and praying that Jake won't realize that she wasn't thrilled in the slightest by him. What would happen if he did, though? Would he try to change that?

Would any man be able to do that?

 

ii.

As Chloe gets settled on the couch in Dr. Kennedy's office, setting her purse on the ground next to her and crossing her hands behind her head, her therapist asks, "So. What's new with you, Chloe?"

Chloe hums, thinking about the past week. Again, nothing much has happened; she got in a bad fight with her mother, but that blew over soon enough, and really, that's to be expected. The two of them have a tense relationship and have for as long as she can remember, so fights aren't really things that stand out in Chloe's mind. "Well... yesterday was my anniversary with Jake, if you don't count the time we were apart," she says finally. "That's something."

Dr. Kennedy gives her a kind smile. "Congratulations, Chloe. But... you don't seem too excited. Why is that?"

Chloe blinks. "Huh. Don't I?" She shrugs. "I mean, it's cool that we've been together for so long."

"I'm just surprised you're not gushing about him," Dr. Kennedy says, and gives her a look that Chloe could only describe as suspicious. "It's only natural for a teenage girl. All my other clients your age come to me waxing poetic about their partners, if they have one."

Again, Chloe shrugs. She does a lot of shrugging in therapy. "I guess I'm just not the type to gush," she says, brushing off her doctor's concerns.

Dr. Kennedy writes something down in that damn notepad. "Well, what do you like about him?" she asks, trying to do some psychobabble bullshit, no doubt.

The question- although it shouldn't- throws Chloe for a loop. She turns it over in her mind for a few seconds, then licks her lips and answers, "Uh... he's handsome." It's a simple answer, yes, but it's true. Objectively, he's handsome. Attractive, even.

"What about him is handsome?" Dr. Kennedy asks, because obviously, she's not going to be satisfied with whatever halfhearted answer she gives her.

Again, it takes Chloe a while to respond. "Well... he styles his hair every day," she says, hoping that the therapist will just leave her alone for once.

She doesn't. "Does it look nice?" Dr. Kennedy presses.

Chloe shrugs. "I guess." The frosted tips are a bit tacky, a little too 90s, but whatever. It looks alright.

"What else?"

Jesus Christ. "I like his fashion," Chloe says. Maybe if she gives short enough answers, her shrink will get the clue. Well. That's wishful thinking.

"What about it?"

Nope. "The pins. He... wears a lot of pins," Chloe answers.

"What about his personality?" Dr. Kennedy asks, leaning forward a little in her seat and adjusting her glasses, which had fallen slightly down her nose.

That was easier to answer, but still, a little annoying. "He's nice," Chloe settles on after a few moments of thinking.

"Always?"

Well, no. Not always. Usually he's nice to her, but he's a popular kid, and, like it or not, popular kids usually beat down on their less fortunate peers. He's become nicer to Jeremy and Michael, now that they're friends (a friend of a friend in Michael's case), but to those who didn't go through the trauma of the SQUIPcident- as Rich has dubbed it- with him, he's still the same sort of careless dude. "He's sorta mean to the less popular kids," Chloe says, the hypocrite. It's the truth, though.

Dr. Kennedy nods. "Is he ever mean to you, Chloe?"

Chloe shakes her head decisively. "Not really."

"Are you ever mean to him?"

Chloe licks her lips. She can't lie and say that she never is. But she doesn't try to be mean to him or anything. Just like how it was with Brooke, she tells him like it is, and sometimes that can be bitchy. She tries to be a loving girlfriend, though, or at least, as loving as she can be. Late at night, she wonders if she's broken, wonders about maybe if something was different about her she could be a better girlfriend. "I don't think so," she answers. "Not really."

"Are you kind to each other?" Dr. Kennedy, redundantly, asks.

"Yes." Chloe's statement is more steadfast now, as if she's trying to prove... something. They are kind to each other. They are.

"Chloe," Dr. Kennedy says, "do you love him?"

Caught off guard, Chloe stammers out, "A-absolutely. Yes. I love him." That's what love feels like, right? Being comfortable with someone? Feeling alright with kissing them? Being a power couple? That's probably what love is. Chloe loves Jake. She loves him. She's... in love... with him. Right. Yes. That's the gospel truth.

Despite Chloe's surety- at least, that's what she tries to convey- Dr. Kennedy seems unconvinced. "I think you might want to reassess your relationship with Jake," she says. "I might be wrong, but this is just my opinion as someone who's known you for four years."

"...Okay?" Chloe replies, and shoots a glare at her therapist. "It's fine, though. We're fine. We've been dating for a year now... sort of."

Dr. Kennedy doesn't respond to that. Instead, she just shoots her another question: "Chloe, does it make you happy to be with Jake?"

Well now.

That's a loaded question.

"I like the stability," Chloe says slowly. "And I- I have sex a lot." Sex is a sign of a Good Relationship. Having sex with men is Good, and that is a fact that Chloe knows. A Fact- capital F. She's not really sure why she's telling her therapist this, but as she said- she has something to prove. She leaves out the fact, of course, that sex isn't all it's cracked up to be. That's irrelevant.

"...Just think on it," Dr. Kennedy says. "Now then. How's school been?"

 

iii.

Sometimes Chloe is impulsive. 'Sometimes', here, means 'pretty much all the time, so thank God she's rich and pretty'. Sometimes she likes to pick fights- that's the reason she and Jake broke up in the first place, back in September. Something about him not caring enough about her feelings, which is sorta true, but... not true enough to have a breakup over it.  
Tonight, she feels that itch in her veins again, the urge to kick and scream and bite. Sometimes she can resist, but she doesn't really have it in her. Chloe sighs and stares up at the ceiling, bumpy and pure, clean white, then grabs her phone from her bedside table. With dull eyes, she navigates to her messaging app and opens her conversation with Jake, rereading the last of their conversation from last night: "u wanna go to mcd's tmrw for lunch w/ me & rich?" "yeah sure!"  
_what's up?_ she types, and her thumb hovers over the send button for a few moments before she presses it.  
Surprisingly- he's usually doing homework at this time of night, since he's bogged down with it, given that extracurriculars take up so damn much of his time- Jake texts back within a few minutes. _nm u?_  
Chloe's nails click on the soft touchscreen of her iPhone as she types _, idk just thinking._  
_about what?_ is Jake's reply, again appearing on her screen within five minutes. Good.  
_us._ , Chloe texts back, not being cryptic at all.  
Chloe can practically hear Jake's frown through the text as she reads, _...what about us?_  
She hadn't really come up with anything. She's not even so sure why she's here anymore. The urge to fight has dulled into a calm ache, more an urge for something to happen than anything. She's not all fangs and claws anymore. But she has to do something now, so she types, _idk. do you love me_  
Jake's reply is almost instantaneous. _Yeah, Chloe, I love you._ Ooh, perfect grammar and capitalization. That's rare.  
Chloe's not really sure what to say, so she just texts back, _cool._  
There's silence for a few minutes, and Chloe thinks the conversation is over, but Jake types finally, _Do you love me?_  
Oh.  
She should've seen that coming.  
Does she? Absolutely. Yes, she loves Jake. He's her boyfriend, so she loves him. He's the most popular guy in school and she's the most popular girl, so she loves him. He's there, so she loves him. _Yeah,_ Chloe texts back. She doesn't say it. It's implied.  
Cool.  
The conversation does fizzle out then, after all. Chloe sits there for half an hour, mindlessly playing  Candy Crush Soda Saga until she runs out of lives- as much as she hates to admit it, she sucks ass at that game- but something feels off. Something twists in her stomach that she can't put a name to. Is it about Jake? Maybe so.  
Maybe they should break up.  
The idea comes to her suddenly, and she genuinely considers it. Maybe Dr. Kennedy was right. Maybe something was wrong with them. Maybe the single life is where it's at. Maybe she should spend more time with Brooke.  
_Okay, actually, I've been thinking, maybe we should break up._ The words are typed out and sent before she even registers them in her mind, as if she's been possessed by some sort of demon that wants to ruin her life. That, or make it better. She's not really sure yet. In the back of her mind, Chloe hopes and prays that Jake isn't the type to go psycho when someone breaks up with him. He was fine the first time, and he was fine when Christine broke up with him back in October, but everyone has a breaking point. She'd better not be found in a ditch somewhere.  
Thankfully, he doesn't flip out on her- not right away, at least. _???? Why??????_ is his response; Chloe snorts in amusement at all the question marks. Is it really that unclear?  
_idk like there's nothing there anymore._ That's true. That's probably true. There was, maybe, at some point, but not anymore.  
_But I love you, Chloe._  
She doesn't like that she can hear him saying it in her mind.  
Idk, I'm just not feelin' it.  
But we've been together for a whole year????  
Okay, first of all, that's not true. They were apart for a month and a half that fall, up until Halloween, where he fucked her drunk and horny, though somehow, it still wasn't satisfying. It was livable, it was alright, and after all, she got the attention she wanted, so, y'know, worth it.  
With a start, Chloe realizes she still haven't replied. Oh. Right. ...What's she even supposed to say? She wracks her brain, but somehow, words escape her. Her! The great and fabulous and charismatic Chloe Valentine! ...She leaves him on read.  
Chloe's blood seems to buzz with a nervous energy, heart beating like a drum as she realizes what she's done. She's broken up with her boyfriend- sorta- and it feels good. It feels great. It feels... entertaining. Maybe that's a bad sign, maybe she craves chaos too much, but look, just give her this.  
Maybe Dr. Kennedy will be proud.

* * *

i.

Let's get the record straight. Chloe doesn't consider herself to be friends with Madeline. She thinks she's a skank, and she slept with Jake, which is unforgivable- unless, of course, you're Christine Canigula, who is An Exception. Chloe's not actually sure if Christine ever slept with him in the first place; they only lasted, like, three weeks. Anyway.

Chloe doesn't like Madeline, she doesn't even willingly associate with her, but she's best friends with Katrina, who's Brooke's cousin, and Chloe is (of course) best friends with Brooke, so yes, they do hang out together sometimes. Oh well, it can be fun sometimes. She loves Brooke, and she gets along with Katrina pretty well.

Today is one of those aforementioned hangouts with Madeline and the Lohsts-  which is a pretty great band name, actually- and Brooke had insisted that she help pick out her clothes and do her makeup. Chloe's still not sure why, given that she's fine at doing it herself, but maybe she just wanted to dress up. Chloe will admit that she has the superior fashion sense between the two of them. It's sort of an unspoken understanding between them.

So there Chloe sits, sitting, legs crossed elegantly, on Brooke's bed, looking at her as she combs through her closet. She's selected a short, ruffly white skirt- idly, Chloe wonders how she's gonna keep that clean- and is now looking for a top to go with it. Instead of a real shirt, she's wearing the shirt she wore to bed- a long, soft, black t-shirt with 'Merry' printed on it in white calligraphy- Chloe's latest Christmas gift to her.

"Hey, Chlo, how 'bout this?" Brooke asks, turning around to show Chloe what she's got: a light blue tee with thin white stripes, cut in a low, sweeping U-neck. It would look pretty nice with the skirt, and Chloe nods with a smile, saying nothing.

Chloe and Brooke have been changing around each other since they were young. Even when Brooke came out as bi in their sophomore year, Chloe was undettered. Look, maybe she's a liiiiittle homophobic, she'll own up to that, but it's not like Brooke is gonna feel her up or anything. Their relationship is completely and entirely platonic- no sexual feelings or anything here. Nope, none at all. So it's totally normal when Brooke takes off her shirt and folds it up, deciding it's clean enough to go back into the drawer of her dresser reserved for pajamas. It's totally normal for Chloe to stare at the lacy bra she puts on. It's totally normal for her heart to hurt and for her stomach to do flips.

She needs a lacy bra. No, she needs five lacy bras. She must be jealous, that has to be why her cheeks are prickling with the blood of a blush, that has to be why she looks away and why she grips and twists the pink blanket on Brooke's bed in one white-knuckled fist.

So she buys lacy bras. She buys three of them, in fact, when the four of them stop at Victoria's Secret. One black, one white, one powder blue- Brooke's favorite color.

But that doesn't put an end to the warm, twisting feeling in her stomach, or the tight pain in her chest.

 

ii.

Chloe brushes a strand of wavy brown hair out of her eyes and sighs, staring up at the ceiling of Dr. Kennedy's office. "I think I have jealousy issues," she says, as if there's any question about it.

Dr. Kennedy seems to be thinking that same thing. "Oh, you think?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

Chloe scowls. "Hey, don't give me that. You're supposed to be nonjudgemental. That's what we're paying you for."

"My apologies, Miss Valentine," Dr. Kennedy says. "What I mean to say is, I definitely agree with you there. What made you finally say that, though?"

"It was the other day- I got really jealous about this cute lacy bra that Brooke has, because it was really cute and she looked good in it and it made her tits look great," Chloe explains. "Except I guess my issues are really bad, because like... even though I got a bunch of them for myself, I still felt bad about it."

Dr. Kennedy nods and scribbles down a few words in her notebook. "Are you jealous of other things?" she asks, although she obviously knows the answer. Sometimes therapists are like that.

Chloe nods. "Yeah, I was jealous of Brooke when she was with Jeremy," she answers.

"Weren't you in love with Jake at that point?" Dr. Kennedy asks, adjusting her position in her seat so that one leg is crossed over the other.

Was she ever in love with Jake? That's a good question. It's so good, in fact, that she doesn't know the answer. "...I guess," Chloe says, and shrugs, glancing away. "It was October, so I guess." After another few moments of thought, she adds, "I was jealous when that one girl asked her out." She can't even remember her name. Something starting with an S, maybe.

Dr. Kennedy's brow furrows as she frowns in intrigue. "Why would you be jealous of that?" she asks.

"I dunno," Chloe says. "She got asked out, why not me?" That doesn't seem quite right, though. What's off? Why else would she be jealous? Why would that bother her? She gets asked out all the time, especially now that the word has spread of her and Jake's breakup. Why would it matter that Brooke got asked out- by a girl, no less?

"Are you insinuating that you like girls, Chloe?" Dr. Kennedy suggests, and Chloe turns her head briskly to glare at her.

"What the hell!? I'm not a dyke!" she snaps defensively, metaphorical hackles raised.

Undeterred, Dr. Kennedy asks, "Then why are you jealous?"

Chloe hates, hates, hates this feeling of being pried at. She should be used to it after four years, but it makes her want to reach out and scratch with her long, sharp acrylic nails, because Jesus Christ, all she's asking is to not have her brain poked and prodded at, and here she is, having her brain poked and prodded at, and so what if she's jealous that her best friend was asked out by a girl? Not everything has to mean something. Sometimes she's just jealous. Sometimes things just happen.

Chloe doesn't realize she's answered- probably with an 'I don't know'- until Dr. Kennedy asks, "Was it because if she went out with someone, you wouldn't have all her attention anymore? Just like how you didn't when she went out with Jeremy?"

She could no homo that. She could definitely no homo that. These aren't thoughts she has consciously, but that's probably the reason Chloe jumps on the conclusion that Dr. Kennedy jumps to. "Right! Right. I think that's it," she says hastily. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Dr. Kennedy doesn't answer that; instead, she comes back with her own question. "What do you like about Brooke?"

Unlike most answers she gives in therapy, this one comes easily. "She's pretty. Really pretty."

"What's pretty about her?"

"Her hair. Her style. How she's shorter than me and a little chubbier," Chloe answers immediately. "She's got a cute tummy. And I like her fashion- it's tacky, but she makes it look good. She's got those really pretty blue eyes, too."

Dr. Kennedy writes something down in her notepad and underlines it three (three!) times. There's a look in her eyes that Chloe doesn't care for at fucking all, thank you very much. A look that says, 'Chloe, you gigantic lesbian, I knew it.' "What about her personality?"

"She's nice," Chloe answers. "Really kind."

"Always?"

"To a fault. Sometimes she's not mean enough, y'know?" Chloe can't count the times Brooke's completely missed the point of something and ended up saying something nice. No, Brooke, Madeline losing at pool deliberately so she could have sex with Jake isn't awesome, it's slutty.

Dr. Kennedy nods, as she often does. "How do you feel about her?"

That gives Chloe pause, much to her surprise. "...She's like a sister to me," she says hesitantly, but it feels dirty on her tongue. Sisters don't like to see their sisters in lacy bras. (She liked it. She liked it. She liked seeing Brooke that way, no shirt, just that damn bra, she wasn't jealous, she liked it)- "She's my best friend," she corrects herself, and that feels a little closer to the truth. "My- my ride or die."

Dr. Kennedy's next question is- it's so obvious, of course it's what was coming next, but it still floors Chloe to hear it, practically makes her heart stop. "Do you love her?"

"Do I what?" Chloe hisses, eyes narrowing.

"Do you love her," Dr. Kennedy repeats, as if that makes it any better or clearer in Chloe's head.

Chloe worries her lip. "I mean, I guess," she says. She doesn't have to guess. She does.

"Are you in love with her?"

Muscles moving involuntarily, Chloe grabs at her hair and tugs it, wincing at the dull ache in her scalp. "God, you keep trying to do that! Why do you think I'm a dyke?"

Again, Dr. Kennedy seems completely undisturbed by Chloe's anger. "Look, Chloe, I'm not trying to label you. That's not my job. But you've never had a good word to say about men," she points out. "Jake, Jeremy, and your father are the only ones I've ever heard you talk about, and you were never in love with Jeremy- were you ever even in love with Jake?"

Chloe bristles. Why is she in her head? How did she know that? How could she possibly know? Jesus, she hates therapists. "Maybe I just haven't met the right guy," she says sharply.

"You love Brooke," Dr. Kennedy says.

"Well, not like that," Chloe replies, and crosses her hands over her chest. She's not doing a great job of convincing herself, either.

"Are you sure?"

And that's the straw that breaks the camel's back. "No, I'm not sure," she snaps, tears pricking at her eyes for God knows what reason. No. She's not going to cry. She will not cry. "Why are you even telling me this? Who are you to decide for me? I am whoever I am, I don't need to pay someone to- to come in here and call me gay and tell me I'm in love with my best friend."

Dr. Kennedy's gaze softens. "I never meant to do any of that," she assures Chloe. "Just- just think about it, alright? It seemed like it was bothering you- not knowing who you are or what you want to be. All the confusion about Jake and everything."

Chloe nods, a little calmer now that she's gotten some of her anger out. "I'll think about it." She sure as shit will, because now that that's been dug up, there's really no way to stifle the thought.

In fact, it doesn't leave her mind for the rest of the day. ...Or the night.

 

iii.

Chloe has never wanted to study less. How is she supposed to study? For the past two weeks, she's barely been able to think of anything but her last therapy session, and, by extension, Brooke. But here she is, alone with the aforementioned bestie in her bedroom, trying hard to focus on her hugeass algebra textbook while Brooke catches up on The Great Gatsby, which she's behind on by three chapters.

Chloe is rereading page 229 for the fifth time when Brooke sets down her book and groans, “God, I need a break.” She rubs her eye sleepily with the palm of her hand, sighs, and, after a moment of thought, grabs her purse from where it sits next to Chloe’s bed. After digging around in it for a few seconds, she produces from it a bottle of lip gloss. Chloe freezes and raises her gaze to Brooke's face as she takes the wand from the bottle, reapplying the sparkling gloss in a way that Chloe could only describe as tantalizing.

No. No way. These have to be just intrusive thoughts. She doesn't actually want to kiss Brooke, does she? But she feels warm inside, not repulsed like she usually does with her actual intrusive thoughts. This isn't her getting visions of herself seducing an older male teacher or ruining all her friendships like her most common impulses are. No, the thought she has of leaning over and taking Brooke's face in her hands and kissing those soft, glossed lips is… different.

Brooke glances up to meet Chloe’s eyes, and asks, confused, “What's with the look, Chlo?” She caps the lip gloss and sets it back in her purse. “You've been acting super weird lately. I'm kinda worried.”

Chloe narrows her eyes, and she must look angry, because Brooke leans back a little. There's no need to worry, though. She's not angry, just… looking. “I think I'm in love with you,” she mumbles.

Brooke cocks her head, frowning a little in perplexity. “Come aga-?”

Chloe cuts her off with a kiss, leaning forward over the mess of books between them. Brooke tastes… sweet. If it's possible to taste warm, she tastes like that, too. In fact, everything about her is warm; Chloe's hand burns where she's placed it on the back of Brooke's neck. It feels new. It feels enlightening. It feels like kisses were just invented, and whatever she's been doing for the past four years since she had her first is fake, a knockoff, a prototype that shouldn't have seen the light of day. For the first time in Chloe's life, it feels _good._

And the best part is, Brooke reciprocates. She kisses back with talent and expertise, humming into the kiss in a way that makes Chloe's heart feels like a bomb that's about to explode, counting down the seconds to zero, T minus three, two, one-

And then they break apart. Brooke opens her eyes, blinks once, twice, and again. “Oh,” she murmurs. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” is all Chloe can say, almost tripping over the simple word.

Brooke takes a deep breath. “Chloe, tell me you didn't just do that because you're ‘heteroflexible’ or something,” she says, curling and uncurling her fingers in air quotations.

Chloe shakes her head vigorously. “No, no, Brooke, I think I genuinely like you,” she says, and she means it. She really, truly means it.

Brooke grins, blue eyes seemingly sparkling in delight and love. “Oh, my God, Chloe, I've had a baby crush on you for like… two years. This is _amazing!”_ She gives a breathy giggle, and that has Chloe's heart soaring again. Shit.

“Can we… can we kiss again?” Chloe asks, voice soft and uncharacteristically tender, as if Brooke changed her fundamentally with just a simple touch. Maybe she did.

Brooke nods with passion, blonde hair  radiant in the artificial yellow shine of the ceiling light, and leans forward to catch Chloe's lips again. It's less hesitant this time, more solid and confident, and Chloe brings one hand up to hold Brooke's face, rubbing her thumb along one cheekbone. It's warm and it's loving and it's so much better than anything Chloe has ever experienced; she feels anchored to the ground and up in the clouds at the same time. She feels… _good._

For the first time in a long time, Chloe feels _good_.

* * *

For four years of her life, Chloe denied needing therapy. Now, as she sits among her closest friends in Jake Dillinger’s living room, laughing and drinking and being joyful, she realizes that she never could have gotten here without it. She would never be this happy or healthy, but look at her- she has close friends, she has a girlfriend, she's graduated high school (the occasion for their little party, though there’ll be a bigger one later, rest assured) and gotten into her dream school, the Fashion Institute of Technology up in NYC. Maybe therapy wasn't so useless after all.

“Hey, Chloe, want me to make you another Piña Colada?” Jeremy asks, leaning over to grab her empty glass. Jeremy, who has forgiven her; Jeremy, who knows she's changed and supports her becoming a better person. Jeremy, who used to be afraid of her, but now goes to movies with her, grabs Starbucks with her, skips school to go to Dairy Queen with her. The two recovered together, really.

“Nah, let me get it. I'm the host, after all,” Jake says, and Jeremy relents, passing the glass to him. After a period of abrasion and not talking, the two are tighter than ever. In fact, they've had many a late night talk reminiscing and laughing about their awkward dating days. Despite the fact that it took her so long to realize she was a lesbian, Chloe was able to help him figure out his own sexuality, and he now identifies as bi. Chloe smirks as she thinks of how the most popular kids at Middle Borough- well, they're not at Middle Borough anymore, but whatever- are all bi or gay. It's a good feeling, one of solidarity and comfort. Jake and Chloe have been tight ever since.

“Will you boys stop trying to get my girlfriend drunk?” Brooke teases, eyeing Jake and Jeremy with mock distrust. Christ, Chloe loves her so damn much. She said it for the first time on their six month anniversary in August, but she's thought it for far longer. True, they've had their fair share of arguments, as any couple has, but most days with her are amazing. Every time they touch, every time they kiss, every time they… spend quality time together, Chloe feels electric, sublime. She doesn't ever want to be without her.

“I would _love_ another drink, thank you very much, Jake,” Chloe says, smiling in loving amusement at Brooke. She slings an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her arm gently with one hand, then says to Jeremy, “I appreciate the sentiment, Jerry, but are you sure you know how to mix drinks?”

“I'm perfectly good at it!” Jeremy protests. “I made your first one.”

Chloe shares a sidelong glance with Brooke, who giggles. “Actually… I poured that one in the sink while you were in the bathroom,” she admits. “A _little_ too much rum.”

Jeremy opens his mouth to make a comeback, but closes it after a couple seconds, presumably remembering the steps he'd taken to fix the drink. “Ah… maybe you're right.” Chuckling sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck.

Chloe laughs, not at all bothered. "Don't worry about it. At least we've got Jake."

And thank God for that. Thank God she has all these wonderful people in her life. Thank God she didn't burn any bridges or hurt them (she's gotten better, she's truly trying), and thank God they all love her.

Brooke pulls Chloe in for a quick kiss on the cheek and grins. "Whatcha thinkin' about, Chlo?"

Chloe smiles softly, glancing around the room before she looks back at Brooke. “Oh, nothing. Just how much I love you guys.”

Not once in her life has she truly meant anything more.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love you!
> 
> Oof I didn't wanna split the thing into chapters bc the intro and epilogue are so short so hopefully this layout was decent . shrug emoji
> 
> also for those of you who haven't read the book, there's a character named katrina lohst who wasn't canonly brooke's cousin (iirc), but it's where she got her name from so I decided to stick her in here.


End file.
